


Hiding Space

by toesohnoes



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-21
Updated: 2012-04-21
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he is stressed out, Fury has taken to hiding in Steve's gym. No one looks for him there and the company isn't half bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiding Space

**Author's Note:**

> Written at [my tumblr](http://toestastegood-fic.tumblr.com/post/21512369849/fury-comes-to-steves-gym-whenever-he-needs-some).

Fury comes to Steve’s gym whenever he needs some space, whenever he needs time to think and clear his head. These days, he’s needing that personal time more and more. The world is going wild. He is a man standing in front of a tidal wave and demanding that it turns back. He’s losing it. He’s losing everything.

Here, in the shadowy confines of the gym, he at least feels as if he can hold on for a little while longer.

At first, Steve would stop and chat to him. He would drop what he was doing and unwind the bandages from around his hands as he traded small talk. He had been quick to realise that Fury didn’t come here for conversation. He comes for his own peace of mind.

Steve only hesitates for a moment as Fury enters the gym, long enough to look over his shoulder and nod at him in greeting. He soon turns back around and pummels the punching bag some more.

Fury finds his peace in the toned muscles of Steve’s arms. He finds reassurance in the sight of Steve’s war-like body and his weaponised fists. War is what Steve had been created for; with the way things are going, war is exactly what they’re gonna get.

Fury takes a seat by the side of the room and watches Steve put himself through his paces, pushing himself to his impressive limits. By the time he’s finished, there is a sheen of sweat over his skin. Fury watches the way that he moves, the restrained power in every step. He doesn’t think he succeeds in keeping the appreciative gleam from his eyes, but if Steve notices it he doesn’t say anything.

“Rough day?” is all that Steve says when he takes a seat beside him.

Fury hands over a bottle of water. “You could say that,” he agrees.

“Let me guess. It’s classified?”

“You have high security clearance,” Fury reminds him.

The corner of Steve’s mouth twitches. “Something tells me your clearance level is higher than mine.”

Fury doesn’t smile back, but he’s tempted. “You might be right about that,” he says, which is as close to confirmation as he’s willing to get.

Steve unscrews the cap of the bottle and leans back as he drinks it, allowing Fury’s gaze to linger on the long, lean line of his throat. If he was a few decades younger, or whole lot more foolish, he would give into the temptation to lean in and taste the sweat from Steve’s adam’s apple. He thinks that maybe Steve would even allow it, having been locked away with little human contact since he woke up.

And, lord, that’s a bad place to allow his thoughts to roam. He runs a hand over his face. “I should get back to work,” he says, while thinking that he might need to curtail these visits. They aren’t good for his mental health.

Steve doesn’t try to persuade him to stay, but he claps a hand on Fury’s shoulder and allows it to linger there longer than it should; it’s an empty promise, the assurance of contact. Fury has to get to his feet - he has to leave, because if he stays another moment he will do something that he’ll regret.

He’s never been more afraid of himself and his own desires than he is when he’s near Steve.


End file.
